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Friday, July 31, 2015

I am late, again, not unlike my protagonist in today's one pic--one hundred word flash. Don't forget to visit my prurient partners and see how this photo inspired them. Below or here on this linkie.Enjoy ~ ☼ღஜﾚo√乇¸.☆¨¯`*.✿.*˜"*° ♥

Again....?

In
frustration, she reclined on the cool leather fainting couch, but she was in no
way about to faint. What appeared to others as disassociated nonchalance and professional
patience was quiet anger. She oozed disdain, not sensual eagerness, for her
very late co-star.

Ten
minutes turned into twenty and twenty into seething when he whipped onto the
set and tossed his trench coat to a gaffer. He, eyes locked onto hers, crossed
the room in four long strides, swept her into his arms and kissed her deeply in
one fluid motion.

How to Stop Lying to Ourselves: A Call for Self-Awareness

It was September of 1816 and two Parisian boys were playing in the courtyard of
the Louvre, the famous museum in Paris.

On the other side of the courtyard, a physician named René
Laennec began to quicken his pace as he walked along in the morning sun. There
was a woman with heart disease waiting for him at the hospital and Laennec was
late.

As Laennec crossed the courtyard, he looked toward the two
boys. One of them was tapping the end of a long wooden plank with a pin. On the
other end, his playmate was crouched down with his ear pressed against the edge
of the plank.

Laennec was immediately struck with a thought. “I recalled a
well-known acoustic phenomenon,” he would later write. “If you place your ear
against one end of a wood beam the scratch of a pin at the other end is
distinctly audible. It occurred to me that this physical property might serve a
useful purpose in the case I was dealing with.”

When Laennec arrived at the hospital later that morning, he immediately asked
for a piece of paper. He rolled it up and placed the tube against his patient’s
chest. He was stunned by what he heard next. “I was surprised and elated to be
able to hear the beating of her heart with far greater clearness than I ever
had with direct application of my ear,” he said.

René Laennec had just invented the stethoscope.

Laennec quickly upgraded from his piece of paper and, after
experimenting with various sizes, he began using a hollow wood tube about 3.5
centimeters in diameter and 25 centimeters long.

This is a sketch of René Laennec’s original stethoscope design, which was
essentially a hollow wood tube. The ear piece is featured in the top right
corner. (Image Source: US National Library of Medicine.)

Laennec’s simple invention instantly changed the field of medicine.

For the first time in history, physicians had a safe,
unbiased way to understand what was going on inside a patient’s body. They didn’t
have to rely solely on what the patient said or how the patient described their
condition. Now, they could track and measure things for themselves. The
stethoscope was like a window that allowed a doctor to view what was actually
happening and then compare their findings to the symptoms, outcomes, and
autopsies of patients.

And that brings us to the main point of this story.

The Lies We Tell Ourselves

We often lie to ourselves about the progress we are making
on important goals.

For example:

If we want to lose weight, we might claim that we’re eating
healthy, but in reality our eating habits haven’t changed very much.

If we want to be more creative, we might say that we’re
trying to write more, but in reality we aren’t holding ourselves to a rigid
publishing schedule.

If we want to learn a new language, we might say that we
have been consistent with our practice even though we skipped last night to
watch television.

We use luke-warm phrases like, “I doing well with the time I
have available.” Or, “I’ve been trying really hard recently.” Rarely do these
statements include any type of hard measurement. They are usually just soft
excuses that make us feel better about having a goal that we haven’t made much
real progress toward. (I know because I’ve been guilty of saying many of these
things myself.)

Why do these little lies matter?

Because they are preventing us from being self-aware.
Emotions and feelings are important and they have a place, but when we use
feel-good statements to track our progress in life, we end up lying to
ourselves about what we’re actually doing.

When the stethoscope came along it provided a tool for
physicians to get an independent diagnosis of what was going on inside the
patient. We can also use tools to get a independent diagnosis of what is going
on inside our own lives.

Tools for Improving Self-Awareness

If you’re serious about getting better at something, then
one of the first steps is to know—in black-and-white terms—where you stand. You
need self-awareness before you can achieve self-improvement.

Here are some tools I use to make myself more self-aware:

Workout
Journal – For the past 5 years or so, I have used my workout journal
to record each workout I do. While it can be interesting to leaf back through
old workouts and see the progress I’ve made, I have found this method to be
most useful on a weekly basis. When I go to the gym next week, I will look at
the weights I lifted the week before and try to make a small increase. It’s so
simple, but the workout journal helps me avoid wasting time in the gym,
wandering around, and just “doing some stuff.” With this basic tracking, I can
make focused improvements each week.

My Annual
Reviews and Integrity
Reports – At the end of each year, I conduct my Annual Review where I
summarize the progress I’ve made in business, health, travel, and other areas.
I also take time each spring to do an Integrity Report where I challenge myself
to provide proof of how I am living by my core values. These two practices give
me a chance to track and measure the “softer” areas of my life. It can be
difficult to know for certain if you’re doing a better job of living by your
values, but these reports at least force me to track these issues on a
consistent basis.

RescueTime –
I use RescueTime to track how I spend my working hours each week. For a long
time, I just assumed that I was fairly productive. When I actually tracked my
output, however, I’ve uncovered some interesting insights. For example, I
currently spend about 60 percent of my time each week on productive tasks. This
past month, I spent 9 percent of my working time on social media sites. If you
would have asked me to estimate those two numbers before using RescueTime, I’m
certain I would have been way off. Now, I actually have a clear idea of how I
spend my time and because I know where I truly stand, I can start to make
calculated and measured improvements.

A Call for Self-Awareness

Self-awareness is one of the fundamental pieces of behavior
change and one of the pillars of personal
science.

If you aren’t aware of what you’re actually doing, then it
is very hard to change your life with any degree of consistency. Trying to
build better habits without self-awareness is like firing arrows into the
night. You can’t expect to hit the bullseye if you’re not sure where the target
is located.

Furthermore, I have discovered very few people who naturally
do the right thing without ever measuring their behavior. For example, I know a
handful of people who maintain six-pack abs without worrying too much about
what they eat. However, every single one of them weighed and measured their
food at some point. After months of counting calories and measuring their
meals, they developed the ability judge their meals appropriately.

In other words, measurement brought their levels of
self-awareness in line with reality. You can wing it after you
measure it. Once you’re aware of what’s actually going on, you can make
accurate decisions based on “gut-feel” because your gut is based on something
accurate.

Footnotes

1. Rubber tubing wasn’t
developed until the second-half of the 19th century, which is when stethoscopes
resembling modern designs were first produced. Further details are explained in
this piece called, “The
Man Behind the Stethoscope” from a 2006 edition of Clinical Medicine
and Research. That article is also the source where I found the quotes from
Laennec used in this article.

2. Thanks to NPR’s Science
Friday segment, where I originally heard the story of the stethoscope from
Ira Flatow and Howard Markel.

James Clear is a writer and researcher on behavioral
psychology, habit formation, and performance improvement. His work is read by
over 500,000 people each month and he is frequently a keynote
speaker at top-tier organizations like Stanford University and Google.
He believes in developing a diversity of knowledge and maintains a public
reading list of the
best books to read across a wide range of disciplines.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

It's the 1920s and Clarissa Hardy is the very definition of the sometimes scandalous New Woman. The moment Clarissa finds herself free of the shackles of her suffocating virginity, she is keen to explore new territories. Curious and courageous, Clarissa books passage on a luxury liner bound for England. After receiving a titillating education from a fellow libidinous lady traveler, Clarissa disembarks in London and, dressed to the nines in her beaded and fringed fashions, proceeds from adventure to amorous adventure, reveling in delightful debauchery. Clarissa knows exactly what to do with her body. It's what she learns about her heart that ultimately takes her by surprise!

Clariss.still leaning against Eleanora, opened her eyes.Kono was standing before her, completely naked.

“I will fuck with you now,” he said. As Eleanora had described in her letter, Margaret stepped forward and took Kono's large cock in her hands. She squeezed and massaged it, holding it out as Moya stepped forward, bringing it to life with sucks and licks. Kono's cock was the longest, thickest cock Clarissa had ever seen. He smiled broadly as he approached her.William looked mischievously at Andrew. “What say we try to both go in at once? How's that, Clarissa? Do you think you could take it? Two cocks in a bush?”The young men laughed. Clarissa laughed and spread her legs. “Why not?” she said gamely, “Have a try!”Both on their knees, each man hoisted one of Clarissa's legs. Clarissa felt herself being stretched as the two cocks were pushed together into her cunt. At last Andrew collapsed in laughter. “Stand back, old chap,” he said to William, “I've not had my turn yet. Clarissa, prepare to be fucked once again!” Clarissa smiled up at him. Andrew took both her legs and bent them up over her shoulders, ramming his cock home as he did so. He fucked her with a passion that brought the heat of another climax washing over her again, pumping in and out until he fell over her with a groan.The plump, blushing orbs were exposed on Clarissa's lap. “You have a most adorable bottom!” exclaimed Clarissa. She felt them all over, squeezing and pinching, kneading and spreading them, until she herself felt a sudden surge of passion. Slowly, slowly, she ran her index finger down between those sweet mounds until she could feel the wet place and the pulsing clit. Sinking three fingers into Eleanora once again, she fucked her with her fingers until the older woman squirmed and gasped. Clarissa suddenly ceased and withdrew her fingers. Reaching for a small wooden box on the table, she took out the dildo, poured oil on it and inserted it deep into Eleanora. “Be still, Eleanora,” said Clarissa, “I am going to leave it in you while I examine you. I want to see everything about you.”

Who would have thought the antics of a hot little number from the Roaring Twenties would cause me to have to divulge so many specifics about myself! Well, you asked for it. I'm Chloe Gillis, Boston Irish to my core. I was born in Cambridge. I'm an only child. My dad is a history professor at Harvard. My mother, from County Tipperary, was a student of his before she became his wife. She's an anthropologist and spends half her time digging in peat bogs in Ireland. The other half of her life she spends being wife to my father, flirting with post-docs, and waiting for my husband and me to get busy and give her grandchildren.Believe me, we're busy, but children are a ways off. My husband is fifteen years older than me, but judging by his abilities and aptitudes, I think he'll last awhile. My husband owns a large accounting firm in Boston and bears a remarkable resemblance to Jeffrey Dean Morgan, which is very nice. Oh, this is supposed to be about me, isn't it!I am an academic librarian at Boston College. It's nice because academics are still important there. Anyway, physically, I'm small, with long blonde hair, which I wear in a tight bun when I work. I guess I look a little like Clarissa. In fact, the book flowed so smoothly at times, that I got to thinking that she might be an ancestor, and the story imparted to me by some sort of genetic memory.My husband and I live in a vintage Victorian in Cambridge not far from Harvard Square with an Irish wolfhound, a French bulldog, and three cats. I know, I know. We're reaching critical mass in the city pet department, but they add a lot to our lives, which are really quite regimented. The worlds of accounting and library science couldn't be more disciplined, organized, or, frankly, dull.I think Clarissa called to me from the quiet of the stacks. Sitting at my desk, staring blankly down the dim hallways of books, or into the depths of my screen saver, which is a picture of me with my mother, digging in the peat in Ireland, I daydream about meeting my husband back at our house later in the evening. I picture myself going into the house. He's already at home, and he takes me around the waist with his big hands, pins me against the wall, and reaches up under my skirt.Maybe it's the intellectual order of our jobs, binding our libido every day, that makes us give in to our more corporeal urges when we're alone. At any rate, one daydream leads to another and so Clarissa and her adventures were born. She just took it farther than we ever have!

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

In Cotton Candy I wanted to create the ultimate
acceptance into the family unit. Despite the problems surrounding Cotton and
Bay’s relationship, and the extra complexities with Bay’s daughter Kristen,
there is a green light given by the Matriarch­­—Grandma, aka “Betty”. After Bay
is disgruntled and rather amused by Cotton’s first name terms with Betty,
Cotton takes her out shopping. He’s a smart guy, what better way to gain
acceptance into the family than by making an ally of Bay’s grandma. Grandma
loves the shopping trip but she also takes the opportunity to get Cotton to
‘step up to the plate’ to create a much stronger bond with her grandson. The
reality of a cowboy out on a shopping trip with an old lady might seem a bit
far-fetched but it’s totally the way he should go and I’m sure it’s not so
uncommon either. Preconceived ideas about cowboys and what they are like come
across very strongly and often they’re only two dimensional figures, painted as
the ill educated and great unwashed. I see cowboys as regular as the rest of us
when we try to create a bond, well rounded and as family oriented as the next
man.

I’ve read quite a few books by these authors as I always
enjoy them, and now they are actually getting better and better with each book
they write. Nothing is going to get me as excited as the title, “The Nobleman
and the Spy” for a start off. Dee and Devon’s characterization is flawless and
always well researched. Jonathan being wonderfully overprotective, and Karl the
stunningly handsome nobleman wanting to unravel the spy. They’ve already met
once on the battlefield, and I liked the development of both their recoveries
from the trauma of war. The plot was
brilliant and kept me guessing, but best of all was the romance and tender intimacy
between the characters. I don’t like doing spoilers but it’s just a fantastic
book and a good length. If you’re not reading these writers work then you’re
totally missing out on brilliance.

Blurb

Cowboy,
Cotton Reid is the laid back type of guy who accepts people as they are, no
matter how flawed. He’s fun, honest and crazy about his boss and friend the
sexy rancher Bay Redman.

Living
with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is something that family man, Bay, has
done his whole life. Bay can be like a bear with a sore head if the hay isn’t
stored symmetrically or his fridge contains an odd number of jars.

When
the two men begin a hot affair, Cotton keeps a secret from Bay, but will Cotton
find the courage to tell the truth before someone else does?

Excerpt

The heat of the spring sunshine made the air thick and
heavy like midsummer as Cotton and Bay rode back toward the ranch after a long
day rounding up cattle for market. A faint breeze caught strands of Cotton’s
hair, blowing it into his face beneath the tan Stetson. He lifted the hat off
and ran his fingers through his damp mop of hair. Then, pulling a band from his
wrist, he secured the locks into a familiar small bunch, leaving a
fingerbreadth of tail hair at the nape of his neck.

Glad for the momentary relief from the heat, he placed
the hat back on and took in Bay’s broad shoulders as he rode in front. For some
reason today, Cotton had not been able to break away from studying each
movement Bay made. Twice before, Cotton had stared at the man too long and
noticed Bay’s brown eyes searching his own. Has
he noticed me watching him? The man’s deep, smoky cedar scent carried to
Cotton on the wind, the smell so rich and bountiful it made his senses stir
with desire.

Starting to get
darn near obsessed with the man who doesn’t even notice me—not in a carnal way anyhow.

Bay and he were boss and hired help. Bay didn’t chase,
pursue, desire—or even demand anything of Cotton, which served to make the man
more attractive. Bay’s sensual, deep-brown eyes tugged at Cotton with each
glance, and Bay’s thick lashes fanned out, flattering his dark-bronze skin. A
simple, meaningless smile had far-reaching and significant implications for
Cotton. Put simply, it meant Bay approved of him and the things he did. The
rancher’s soft, full lips framed milk-white teeth, and sent urgent ripples
right through Cotton’s body, leaving his fingertips tingling and the reins
slippery with his sweat.

Author Bio

I enjoy writing both academic and fiction material. My
research interests include focus on people who experience marginalization, both
in historical societies and modern. Themes include disability, neurosis,
homosexuality, addiction, mental illness, slavery and prostitution. The most
important part of my work is creating multi-dimensional, believable characters
that are able to build lasting romantic relationships against the odds. I want
all my readers to laugh, cry and enjoy the erotic journey towards a happy
ending.

This book is dedicated to all our loyal fans and readers
who give our work purpose…….and it will be our dirty little secret…

Naughty is as naughty does. And if there is any virtue
seeking its own reward, it will not be found here. What will be found is a
collection of awesome author excerpts, a box of saucy, delectable samples, a
tasty bounty of tantalizing teasers. And there is no reward quite like
self-indulgence; virtue be damned.

This catalog of excerpts from bestselling
wonderful writers with their acclaimed and award winning novels is offered to
our fans as a small token of our appreciation for your loyal support and unfaltering
encouragement. It is a free download. While we are at it, permit us to
introduce you to some of our long standing salacious author friends, who we
feel are equally deserving of your prurient partnership and support.

Tantalyzing Tuesday finds me waxing nostalgic. Here is today's piece: 200 words based upon the photograph below. Have a quick read of mine, then dash over to all the others on the group link or I have them listed below like young heartbeats.Enjoy ~ ☼ღஜﾚo√乇¸.☆¨¯`*.✿.*˜"*° ♥

The Abyss of Summer Love

The summer was hot that year, my sixteenth: the year of
summer love, secret kisses, furtive meetings. My body was in a constant state
of hunger and I was anxious, eager for something—anything—to relieve the gnawing
insistence I felt from within.

I was in a constant state of awareness. I felt the soft searing
breeze cool the trails of heat it produced which left a heightened sensation of
electricity on my flesh. My nipples yawned hard and erect against my clothes
ready for the touch of love.

It was not our first date, that hot first summer, when I
opened my heart and my body to his young, trembling touch. It was with an eager
abandon leaving me fragile, quivering and anxiously wet that I reached for him.

He was patient and wondrously hard, as he lovingly
brushed an errant curl from my upturned face, my expectant eyes wide. Unaware,
I floated into the embrace of his blue gaze and in a suspended single motion; I
settled my young body on his outstretched cock.

I nearly exploded as he slid into me.

Filling me with his heat, I watched our bodies disappear
into the abyss of summer love.

No longer safe in Brayleigh, Aria and James travel by ship to find refuge and discover what’s left of the world.

Dangerous seas and pirates lurking are only the start of their troubles. Forced off the boat with nothing but the clothes on their back, the crew and passengers make it to a nearby island, only to be abducted by the Knight Tribe, a clan of romantic warriors with a voyeuristic culture and a taste for nightly entertainment.

Get swept away in this dystopian erotic adventure, brimming with romance, spankings, and betrayal.

BUY & TBR LINKS

EXCERPT

The hum of the engine died, and Aria heard the scream of unfamiliar words in a language she didn't recognize. Shots were fired in every direction forcing her to duck, throwing herself onto the floor of the ship.

James lay right beside her, covering Aria with his body, shielding her from danger. She didn't have the courage to ask what happened.

The warmth and security Aria felt from James vanished. A man covered in tattoos, his arms a canvas of ink, grabbed James by the arm and dragged him across the room. The second man accompanying him lifted Aria from the floor and escorted her up the stairwell. James walked just a few feet in front. The man dropped his hold on her as the passageway narrowed. A gun pressed into her back, a constant reminder of danger. Aria couldn't fight without risking her life. She hoped these men would steal what goods they came for and then leave.

Forced outside, the lifeboats were just a few feet away.

The sun began to set, and the sky twinkled like a sapphire without a cloud in the heavens.

Even at dusk, beads of sweat trickled against Aria's forehead. Her black shirt stuck to her back, the cargo pants she wore were too hot for this climate. She didn't dare ask where they were; she didn't believe anyone would answer.

They were forced against the wall. Would the lifeboats even float anymore? The old luxury cruise liner's paint faded from years of sun exposure. What would it have been like fifty years ago, before the devastation and destruction that their parents created, taking a luxury cruise? She would never know. The Gem Apocalypse had resulted in a war with only survivors, no heroes.

"Move!" the man behind Aria said. His gun dug further into her back, and she pushed forward on James's heels. "Down!"

They got down onto the ground with the other crew and passengers. Six men towered over them with guns. Aria was unfamiliar with the weapons, as they were larger than the ones the guards carried at the palace.

"We'll be okay," James said as he sat beside Aria, reaching for her hand.

Aria wanted to ask him how he could know that without a doubt. Hope shrank like a beacon of light fading in the distance. These men were thieves. She could smell the treachery and greed from where she sat. How did they end up here?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ravyn is a sassy, fun-loving, and adventure-seeking young woman. She loves to travel and can’t wait for her next vacation, wherever it might be.
Ravyn writes romantic erotica. She began writing romance novels in college, spending her down time either reading a book or writing fiction. Please don’t make her choose between the two, she loves them equally.
Although BURNING DESIRE is her debut romantic erotica novel, it is not her first published book. She has been published professionally since 2013. You can find her other books here.

Emerald– a girl with green eyes and a rarity after the horrific genocide that slaughtered millions.

After the war, King Gideon rose in power. A lust-filled and greedy king that believed in the power of slavery.

At eighteen, women were required to come before King Gideon and his four sons, to offer themselves as a courtesan. The princes took only those they found most attractive and alluring. The rest were returned to their homes with a brand on their wrist proving they had been through the process and rejected. Ignoring the ritual was punishable by death.

Aria Stone had been kept hidden from the princes and the ceremony, because she was an Emerald. At twenty-three, the royal guards storm her home, murder her mother, and drag her to court. She must face the four princes.